


my cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme (are ruined)

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: i blame all the sexy songs for this [13]
Category: Chinese Actor RPF, EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, okay a lil plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27404974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Yifan is a drifter, doing odd jobs across the country, never staying anywhere for more than a month. Gas stations are home and the smell of petroleum has seeped through his clothes. Then, in one town, he comes across a young widower named Junmyeon.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Series: i blame all the sexy songs for this [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/955530
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62





	my cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme (are ruined)

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY KRIS WUU DAY!! How else can I celebrate besides writing this PWP for all my fellow Krishoe Meigenis?

The sun beats down on Yifan’s back as he picks another box and heaves it on to the pick-up truck. That would be the last of the strawberries, he thinks. He packs the two dozen or so boxes with rope and the other worker helps. When they are done, Yifan flashes a thumbs-up sign to the driver, who nods and starts the car. Tomorrow, at the next town’s farmer’s market, the strawberries will be sold. Right now, Yifan needs to go pick up his days’ wages and then probably go get something to eat. He skipped lunch, after all, so he is kind of famished. 

While in the farm office, the owner, after handing him the envelope filled with cash, points at a few crates in the corner. Yifan realises they are yesterday’s cherry pickings. The older man smiles, “Those cherries weren’t sold today, you can take them if you want. You’re staying at Junmyeon’s bed and breakfast, right? Take it to him if you want.”

Yifan nods; he knows Junmyeon will appreciate the gesture. At the thought of the other man, Yifan feels his face heating up. He picks up the crate and thanks his employer before leaving. As he walks towards the house where he is staying, he thinks about Kim Junmyeon.

Yifan is a drifter, doing odd jobs across the country, never staying anywhere for more than a month. Gas stations are home and the smell of petroleum has seeped through his clothes. He is twenty-four years old and he never stays anywhere for more than a month. He lost his family at a young age and after the orphanage kicked him out when he turned eighteen, he has been living like this. And it suits him just fine. He does not ponder about his mortality or the impermanence of his life. He can read and write and he is strong enough for any kind of manual labour. He has no attachments, no personal belongings besides his motorbike, his large rucksack and his precious journal but then he came to this town and he has been here for a month, which is something he does not do. And he can blame one person for this: Kim Junmyeon.

He is at the modest bed and breakfast that Junmyeon runs. He takes the back entrance and he finds Junmyeon alone in the kitchen, enjoying his afternoon glass of iced tea. Yifan halts for a second to just appreciate what he sees. Junmyeon is dressed in a plain white t-shirt, rolled to his elbows and khaki pants. His dark hair is covering his eyebrows as he reads the newspaper, head bowed and a small smile tugs at the corner of his pink lips (Yifan assumes he is reading the comics). The afternoon heat is getting to him because his skin is flushed the lightest peach and there is sweat beading on his nape. Yifan sighs inside his head—he has never met someone so beautiful in his life before.

Do not get Yifan wrong. He understands attraction and beauty, but his attraction never lasts long enough and for him, the serenity of nature, the vastness of oceans seem more beautiful than human beings. However, Kim Junmyeon has ruined all of that. Now, even the moon pales to the man reading his newspaper in the southern afternoon heat. 

Junmyeon finally notices Yifan and his smile widens before it turns into a frown of concern. He rushes to his feet and says, “Oh my god, you’re burnt to a crisp!” He grabs a glass and a pitcher from the fridge, “Sit down, sit down.” He pours iced tea for Yifan as the latter puts the crate on the counter. “Did you drink enough water? Did you eat?”

Yifan shakes his head, smiling at Junmyeon’s disquiet at that. He sharply gasps as he turns the stove on. “I knew you wouldn’t. Thank god, I didn’t put the rice away. Stew and fried eggs sound good to you?”

Yifan nods his head again. Junmyeon smiles once at him and shakes his head, probably thinking how little Yifan speaks, and then he turns around to prepare his late lunch. Yifan only pays for his stay and he gets food in exchange for helping Junmyeon around the house. This is peak tourist season, so Junmyeon needed some extra hands. While he gets help from the townspeople, there are still some things he does not mind some extra hands for, particularly when something needs his attention after working hours get over. So, Yifan helps with whatever he can. Junmyeon has taken to him and Yifan has never experienced something like this: the attention, the care. No one really spends a thought for him, so this is new to him

Maybe that is why Yifan is getting attached. And it terrifies him.

Junmyeon is six years older than him and six inches shorter than him (probably more but Yifan is not running around with a measuring tape). He is kind, generous and he always has a smile for everyone. There is something about him—he can smile at anyone and they would immediately melt. Yifan has seen angry guests stumbling after they see Junmyeon smile. Yifan had also heard someone say how the manager must be an angel in a human form. And Yifan would not argue with that—they are probably right.

But he is also very determined, firm when needed and there is a sadness that lurks around his eyes, especially when he looks at the rhododendron bush in the front entrance. Yifan did learn later that the flower bush was planted by Junmyeon’s late husband, who he lost to an accident five years ago. Apparently, they only had been married a year when that happened. When Yifan learned of this, he felt a pang of hurt in his chest. He looks at Junmyeon now and he feels sad that a wonderful person like Junmyeon does not have someone to hold him, to love him, to cherish him, to hold his hands. 

Yifan, then, without really thinking about it, looks at his own hands. They are bigger than Junmyeon’s and they are far more calloused than Junmyeon’s too. A stray thought lodges in his head: would their hands fit? But at the next moment, Yifan frowns. He has never entertained such thoughts about anyone before. _What is happening to him?_

Yifan sips his iced tea and it is peach-flavoured today. Yifan has never met someone who knows so much about food like Junmyeon does. But he supposes that it is knowledge that comes from operating an establishment like this. Yifan was not paying attention but Junmyeon is done with preparing his lunch and starts plating them in front of Yifan. He has rice, a vegetable stew and fried eggs on the side. He also puts the extra sides on the table and joins him. Yifan looks at the excessive amount of rice in his bowl and frowns at Junmyeon, who grins, “Eat up. You ate breakfast like at seven today.” He wags his finger at Yifan, “I know you’re starving at this point.”

Yifan feels his face heat up as Junmyeon picks up on just how much hungry he truly is. He begins eating and Junmyeon tops up his tea. Junmyeon finally notices the crate on the counter and asks, “What’s that?”

Yifan swallows the mouthful of food he is eating and answers, “Mister Jung send you some cherries.”

Junmyeon’s eyes light up. “Oh? Cherries?” He taps his chin as he muses out loud, “That seems to be a lot of cherries...maybe I can make wine out of it.”

Yifan asks, “You can make wine out of cherries?”

Junmyeon chuckles, “You can make alcohol out of almost everything Yifan!”

Yifan chooses to trust Junmyeon on that. He says, “If you need any help—”

Junmyeon waves his hand, “Yeah, yeah I’ll let you know.” He cups his face and leans on the table, his smile is faint and almost fond as he says, “Finish your food first and get some rest. I do have work for you, but I want you to rest first.”

Yifan is not entirely blind; he sees the affection Junmyeon holds for him. And he has waited to see what Junmyeon would do about it but so far, nothing has happened and that makes Yifan doubtful. He knows it is not just him who stares a little longer, smiles a little softer, lingers with the touches a second too much. Junmyeon, now, returns to his comics and Yifan finishes his lunch.

They part ways and Yifan heads back to the very end of the property where his cottage is. It is a small shed turned into something inhabitable. It may not be glamorous but it is clean and airy. There is a lake by his cottage, where he often hangs his washing, so he pulls down the sheet and clothes he left hanging in the morning. The sun is so harsh, Yifan is not surprised how pale his yellow t-shirt looks already. He chuckles to himself and walks towards the gate. He unlocks it and steps in, relishing in the cool shadows. He turns on the fan and strips off his t-shirt first. Maybe, he will take a dip in the lake. He does have a bathroom with running water but the lake water is definitely colder and it is just so hot. 

He puts the sheets on his bed and then only in his boxers, walks towards the lake. This cottage is far enough from the main house, so Yifan is not worried about anyone finding him like this. He walks into the water and when he is neck-deep, he ducks under the water. And he was right, the water is cold and comforting. The plants lightly brush at his ankle and his toes curl over the mud at his feet. It is so soothing to be under like this. The world is muffled and he feels like he is alone, entirely alone in the whole cosmos. 

When his lungs protest, he breaks the surface of the water and gasps loudly. He takes huge gulps of air and he hears the door to his cottage open and close. He turns around and finds Junmyeon turning his head around, trying to find him. Yifan slowly walks back to the shore. Junmyeon finally notices him and gasps, eyes widening before he blushes deeply and looks away. Right, Yifan is barely dressed.

Junmyeon reaches for the towel Yifan had thrown over the washing line. He extends it towards Yifan, still refusing to look at him. Yifan takes it, smirking a little, and wraps it around himself. Junmyeon is looking at his feet as he extends his other hand towards Yifan and says, “Here, I got you some aloe vera, for your, uh, sunburn.”

Yifan notes how pretty the colour pink is on Junmyeon, especially on his cheeks. He is transfixed for a moment before he takes the container of aloe vera. He does not Junmyeon to go, he suddenly wants to know how deeper that pink can get. He purposely brushes his fingers against Junmyeon’s and watches the pink travel to his ears. Then, he says, “Can you help me put this on? My back is burned.”

Junmyeon finally looks at him, his lips parted but he nods. They walk back inside and Yifan drags up a pair of drawstring pyjamas and rubs his back, wincing a little. He did not lie about the burn on his back. He did take off his shirt while picking fruit for some time because his t-shirt got soaked with sweat. Junmyeon looks at the pile of clothes by the bed and says, “Bring this to the house, Jaebum will take them to the laundry.”

Yifan grins as he sits down on the bed and rubs his hair with the towel, “I can wash them myself, you know.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes and walks towards the bed. He grabs the towel and tries to dry Yifan’s hair as he says in an admonishing way, “You know, our terms were that you help with the house and you get food and other services in return. But you haven’t really asked for anything but food.”

“What other services, hyung?”

Junmyeon halts for a moment. Yifan does not talk much usually but whenever he wants to make Junmyeon flustered, he makes sure his voice is heavier than ever. As he looks up at Junmyeon with wide eyes, trying to play innocent, the blush returns as expected, and Junmyeon stumbles, “Oh, you, you know, like, em, laundry.”

Having achieved the effect Yifan wanted, he turns around and point at the areas that sting. Junmyeon clicks his tongue, the busybody manager returning, “Really now, I’ve told you time and time again how horrible it gets in the heat here!”

Junmyeon’s touch is cold, soothing on Yifan’s back and he relaxes, his muscles going lax as Junmyeon rubs the gel into his skin. At a particular patch, it suddenly stings and Yifan gasps out loud. Junmyeon immediately stops and grabs Yifan’s shoulder, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Yifan turns around and smiles, “It’s okay.” Yifan watches again as Junmyeon swallows, widens his eyes lightly and then the pink is back in his face. He looks down and nods, whispering, “I’ll be careful.”

When every hurting inch of Yifan’s skin is covered in aloe vera, Junmyeon gets up from the bed. He puts the little container by Yifan’s bedside table and says, “I’m leaving it here.” He smiles, “Rest now. I’ll need your help with the cherry wine later. Come find me before dinnertime.”

Before he leaves, he collects the clothes Yifan had left by the door. Yifan tries to protest but Junmyeon waves him off. When the door closes behind him, Yifan smirks. He got under Junmyeon’s skin today pretty successfully. The day is still young, he hopes to move further towards a conclusion someday soon.

Junmyeon chews his thumbnail as he watches Yifan serve the guests in the dining room. He is so confused about his feelings as he watches the young woman grin and flip her hair at Yifan. The younger man remains unfazed but Junmyeon is fidgety. Mostly, perhaps, because of the phantom heat on his waist.

_Yifan finds him before dinnertime as promised. Junmyeon tasks him with helping Seunghee and Taeyong in the kitchen. When Yifan gets free, Junmyeon gestures him to follow him to the basement where he keeps all the types of equipment for making wine._

_As Yifan takes the buckets and airlock upstairs, Junmyeon searches for the demijohn and the vinyl siphoning tube. He finds it on a shelf and groans a little when he is unable to reach it. He drags a stool and gets on it to grab the things he needs. The stool is not the most stable and the demijohn is fairly massive and heavy. Junmyeon’s heart stops for a second when he feels a rather dangerous wobble. He thinks he will be meeting gravity soon, but then a pair of large, warm hands cover his waist and stabilise him._

_Junmyeon recognises the light scent of aloe and he tries to not focus on the heat seeping into his skin, through the flimsy material of his shirt or the current travelling up his spine, making goosebumps erupt all over his arms. He chuckles, “Thanks Yifan.”_

_“You could’ve called me,” Yifan berates._

_Junmyeon bites down on his lip, internally screaming at the touch. He had always wondered if Yifan’s hands were large enough to wrap around his waist like that and now that he has gotten his answer, other unneeded images flash in his mind. He has been attracted to his helper ever since he showed up one morning a month ago. He inhales deeply, fights the heat on his face as he grabs the demijohn and passes it to Yifan, “Take this one upstairs.”_

_Yifan takes it and their fingers brush again. Junmyeon hopes Yifan did not notice how sharply he inhales at that. Yifan does not pay any heed as he takes the demijohn upstairs. Junmyeon exhales only when Yifan is gone. He needs to get a grip over himself. He knows Yifan is toying with him and has been aware of it for a while. Thinking back to the afternoon, with all the smirking and the_ “What other services, hyung?” _confirmed what Junmyeon had been curious about._

“Hyung, do we have any beer left?”

Someone says beside Junmyeon and he returns to the present and finds one of his part-timers, Mark, looking at him with confusion on his face. Junmyeon nods, “Yeah, yeah. Ask Taeyong, he must have put some in the freezer to cool down.”

Mark nods and rushes towards the kitchen. Suddenly, Junmyeon finds himself staring right back at Yifan, who simply smiles at him. He raises an eyebrow, silently asking if everything is okay. Junmyeon feels his neck heating up. He shakes his head, smiles and decides he should try to busy himself with something else. Staring at Yifan and thinking some rather strange thoughts is not helpful.

But the thoughts do not leave him alone. Dinner service gets over and he stands in the middle of the kitchen and thinks. Yifan once said that he does not like staying in one place for too long. But he has stayed here for some time now. _Why?_ Junmyeon wants to be delusional for a second and believe the reason is him but with a man like Yifan, who likes the open roads and endless skies, Junmyeon can never be enough. He shakes his head and helps his employees with clearing up and cleaning. When they are done, all of them bid him good night one by one. Only Yifan stays and Junmyeon smiles at him, “Now, we can focus on the cherries. I have left them at the tap outside, can you drain the water and bring them inside?”

Yifan does as he is told. Junmyeon pulls out the weighing machine and gestures at Yifan to rest the bucket on it. Junmyeon raises an eyebrow when he sees the machine showing six pounds. He whispers, “That’s a lot. I could never have pitted them on my own.” He picks up a cherry pitter and hands it to Yifan, grinning, “Thank god you’re here.”

Junmyeon turns on the radio as they both sit down to work. Yifan pits his first cherry and asks, “Do I need to avoid anything?”

Junmyeon nods, “Don’t pit over-ripe or mushy cherries. Also, avoid cherries with holes in them, they often contain larvae in them. We don’t want to brew a batch of baby flies while at it.”

Yifan grimaces at the visual. Junmyeon obviously moves faster than him and he is dropping cherries in the fermentation bin faster than Yifan ever could. Yifan takes surreptitious glances at Junmyeon whenever possible. To Yifan’s absolute pain, Junmyeon, when heavily focused, pokes his tongue out and the sight should not be so obscene but Yifan’s mind is usually in the gutter around the older man. He shakes his head and inhales. Cherries, he must focus on cherries. 

When Junmyeon’s stack of cherries is over, he stands up. “I’ll boil the water, can you manage the rest?” When Yifan nods, Junmyeon claps his hand, “Good, a gallon will take some time. If you’re done, start mushing the cherries. Use the potato masher.”

Yifan nods again and Junmyeon hauls a massive pot to the stove. He fills it bit by bit and turns the gas on. The silence is not uncomfortable and the radio plays an old English song, probably from the eighties. Yifan knows this one, he often hears it in gas stations and truck rest stops (he is sure there is a nationwide conspiracy where compilation CD makers supply these places with music and no one else is allowed to get anything else). He starts humming to it. 

Junmyeon hears the humming and he is surprised that Yifan knows the song. Isn't he too young to know this one? Then, to his surprise, Yifan begins singing. “If you're lost you can look and you will find me...Time after time,” sings a deep, resounding voice. It is rough around the edges but Junmyeon cannot deny that Yifan cannot hold a melody. Yifan continues singing, “After my picture fades and darkness has turned to grey, watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm okay...Secrets stolen from deep inside, deep inside, and the drum beats out of time.” The chorus begins again but Yifan does not sing it as he picks up the potato masher. Junmyeon mutters, “You sing very well.”

Yifan turns around and his whole face is red. He says, “You heard?”

Junmyeon grins, “It’s just you and me here Yifan.” He glances back at the water, it has not boiled yet, “You have a very nice voice.”

Yifan scratches his ear and Junmyeon thinks there are butterflies in his stomach at the shyness. “I used to be a choir boy.”

Junmyeon widens his eyes, “Oh wow, that would explain things!” Then he grins, “Mark can play the guitar you know, I think I’d like a song as a birthday gift.”

Yifan looks at Junmyeon, half in worry and half in amusement. He does know it is Junmyeon’s birthday next week and he had been wondering what to give the man. While this takes away that worry, he gets a new thing to get anxious about. He feels his whole body heating up as he says, “I—I don’t know.”

Junmyeon frowns and pouts, “What? I can’t make a birthday request?”

Yifan is weak to that pout. He licks his lips and nods, “I guess, I can manage.”

Junmyeon claps his hands, “Oh, this is exciting!”

Yifan shakes his head at the childish joy in Junmyeon’s face. It is a simple enough request but it makes all the hair in his body rise. The happiness on Junmyeon’s face, Yifan likes that he is the reason for that. Yifan tries to not mull over that too much as he starts mashing the cherries. Soon, the kitchen is filled with the heady aroma of cherries. It is sweet, laced with a tang and Yifan feels quite intoxicated by it already. 

The water boils and Junmyeon brings it down to a simmer. He adds the sugar and stirs it to dissolve it. When that is done, he turns off the heat and removes the pot from the stove. He has to let it cool, so he places it directly under the fan. He sits down on the table again and watches Yifan mash the cherries. The man is dressed in a sleeveless muscle shirt and Junmyeon tries to not look at the muscles bulging as he works, but he fails miserably. He does notice the many tattoos littering his arms. 

There is the Dreamer tattoo on his right outer forearm, the word Fortitude in the inner forearm, the mismatched wings on his right upper arm, the scorpion on his left arm, the quote on his inner left bicep and lastly, the rather intricate white tiger tattoo on his right inner forearm. Junmyeon cups his chin and asks, “All your tattoos, do they have a meaning or are they just random?”

Yifan is done mashing the cherries. He hears Junmyeon’s question and smiles a little. He sits down and spreads his arms forward. He points at the quote first and says, “This is an Italian proverb.”

Junmyeon leans forward, squinting, “What does it say?”

“If you can’t live longer, live deeper. I read it in a poster once and I really, really liked it.”

Junmyeon looks at Yifan, a small smile at the corner of his lips, “That kind of suits you, doesn’t it?” Yifan nods and Junmyeon reaches forward. He touches the tiger and asks, “This one?”

Yifan feels Junmyeon’s finger tracing the tiger on his skin and he shivers a little. His voice drops as he says, “In Chinese, the tiger means dignity, sternness, courage.”

Junmyeon nods, murmuring, “Suits you, again.” He does not know where he gets the daring from, but since this is a round table, Junmyeon scoots closer. He touches the scorpion, tracing the curling lines and asks, “This one?”

Yifan thinks why does it suddenly feel hotter? The fan is one and the nights here are a little cooler than the day but his skin is tingling. He chuckles softly at Junmyeon’s question and answers, “I was sixteen and my friends dared me to get a tattoo. So, being a teenager and with no clue, I decided to get the one thing I could think of. I was born in November, so…”

Junmyeon too laughs as he understands, “A scorpion for a Scorpio? We’re all entitled to be stupid in puberty.” He shifts closer, till his shoulder is pressed against Yifan’s. It sends his heart careening in his chest because he has never dared to be _this_ close to Yifan before. Yifan’s defences are down, he has laid down the drawbridge over his impenetrable fortress of being and Junmyeon is thrilled to be invited. He touches the two mismatched wings. “And these? They don’t match.”

Yifan’s smile dims a little, “They are for me breaking free of shackles. I, I told you, right? How I was never adopted like my other friends? I have felt abandoned till I realised that no one needs to be responsible for me but me. They don’t match because they represent two things: me overcoming my fear of abandonment and my fear of death.”

Junmyeon becomes saddened, he cups the design and asks, “Of death?”

Yifan shrugs, “Living on the streets at first was terrifying before I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.”

Junmyeon nods; he can tell Yifan does not want to talk about that part of his life. He points at the last two he can see, “And fortitude and dreamer?”

“I believe they describe my personality.”

Junmyeon tilts his head to the side, “Your personality? I understand the fortitude because honestly, I can’t imagine any other word that describes you that well. You’re courageous and determined. I deeply,” Junmyeon almost says “like” but he catches himself, “Respect you for that.”

Yifan smiles, “Thank you, though I think this would describe you very well too.” He looks around the kitchen. “You’re determined and you’ve persevered too. Look at what you’ve built.”

Junmyeon laughs and looks down, his face warming up, “Thank you, Yifan.”

“And as for the dreamer? I think I would like to travel as far as the roads can lead me.”

Junmyeon does not move and neither does Yifan move away from him. They are so close and the whole thing feels so private, so intimate. The world outside has gone to sleep and only the cicadas remain, calling out constantly. Junmyeon has gone back to trace the tiger and he says, “Do you ever imagine yourself staying at one place forever?”

Yifan shakes his head but this is a heavy question and for some reason, his breath catches. Junmyeon is not asking this for conversation, there is something else. He slowly says, “I don’t know, to be honest.”

Junmyeon knew he would get an answer like that but it makes him a little disquieted. He stands up and checks the water—it has cooled down a lot. As he pours the water into the fermentation jar, he gently says, “Cherry wine matures in two months, but I guess you won’t be around then to taste it.”

Yifan swallows; he hears the disenchantment in Junmyeon’s voice. As Junmyeon mixes the mashed cherries with sugared water, Yifan slowly gets to his feet. Junmyeon uses muslin cloth to cover the bin and when he is done tying, Yifan gulps back the hesitation and takes a leap. He curls his fingers around Junmyeon’s wrist and pulls the man towards himself. Junmyeon yelps a little but when Yifan puts his arms around him and presses his lips down on the other man’s, Junmyeon becomes still. But that only lasts a second. 

Junmyeon is surprised to be just manhandled like that but when he crashes against Yifan’s chest and when he feels Yifan caging him, he gets a sense of what will happen next. Yifan only looks at him for half a second, or even less, and Junmyeon sees how his gaze burns. Next, he is kissed and he becomes still but his brain catches up and he cannot help but respond. He puts his hands on Yifan’s neck (the height difference is bothersome now). One hand reaches for Yifan’s nape, tugging harshly at the roots to push his head closer to him and the other hand bunches the collar. He has been _aching_ for it. 

Yifan is like an inferno swallowing Junmyeon whole. His hands are warm, firm around his waist. His lips are sure, rough but warm and soft against his. Fire lives within Yifan’s kiss, he finds a way of melting every part of Junmyeon. There is no finesse in the kiss but it is needy and Junmyeon likes it. A gentle nip here and a hard suck following it, Junmyeon feels his knees weaken and he moves closer and closer to Yifan till he can feel the thud of Yifan’s heart against his chest. 

They break the kiss for air. There is a moment right then, a glance where the world stops for the briefest of times, and the only thing between them is the anticipation of their lips on each other. Yifan is heaving, his pupils dilated and Junmyeon knows he must look no different. Every inch of his lips pulsate and he knows they would be swollen if he touched them. The moment hangs in the air, intense, and it pulls them closer again. Junmyeon tilts his head to the side and Yifan moves in the opposite direction. Junmyeon’s hands drop to Yifan’s waist and Yifan cups Junmyeon’s chin. 

Junmyeon’s lips taste like cherries, or like some forbidden fruit. Yet, every press of lips, every brush of tongue they exchange between their urgent mouths taste limitless. Boundary lines melt the moment Junmyeon’s ardent mouth pleads with his to say yes. And Yifan says yes as he presses down and down, leaving a trail of burning kisses all over Junmyeon’s face and neck. He kisses each of those pretty moles that would distract him. The one under his left eyebrow hiding under his bangs. Yifan kisses the mole adjacent to his ear and the one under it. He lightly bites into the flesh, sucking his claim on Junmyeon. Then, he pays attention to the right eyelid, the right temple. Then over his lips and on his chin. Yifan wonders how many he can get to kiss if he took that shirt off.

Junmyeon can hardly keep himself up at each kiss. He shivers when Yifan kisses his Adam’s apple and at the hollow of his throat. He whimpers, “Yifan, Yifan…”

Yifan kisses Junmyeon again and he slowly nudges him towards the kitchen counter and Junmyeon gets lost in the rush of blood to his head when Yifan pins him against the tiled counter and pauses as he searches Junmyeon’s eyes. Whatever he is looking for, Junmyeon hopes he finds it. 

Yifan is not sure if this quite the right idea. His body has been awakened to a desire he has not felt in a long, long time. He _wants_ this man in his arms so, so desperately. He halts for a second, tries to search for an answer and when he sees the flushed face, the craving swimming in Junmyeon’s eyes, he gets it. Yifan rests his hands on Junmyeon’s knees and kisses his neck, that beautiful neck of his. Junmyeon spreads his legs and Yifan understands. He cups Junmyeon’s butt, squeezing the ample flesh in his palms. He feels Junmyeon quaking in his arms and lets Yifan push him higher on the counter. He wraps his legs around Yifan’s torso. Yifan keeps his hands on Junmyeon’s thighs, tracing the inside seam of his trousers as he unbuttons the shirt and bares Junmyeon’s chest. A mouth wraps around his nipple and tugs harshly. Junmyeon’s back arches and his body jerks forward. Their crotches brush and they both gasp. 

They kiss again, slow and passionate. Yifan pulls him closer and Junmyeon likes how there is no space between them. Yifan’s volcanic heat seeps into his skin and perhaps, his head buzzes because he can only smell cherries and the aloe on Yifan’s skin. Junmyeon drops kisses down Yifan’s neck and he slips his hand under the man’s t-shirt. He licks and bites along Yifan’s clavicles and Yifan grabs him tighter. Their bodies start grinding on each other and their breathing gets heavier. 

They pause to catch their breaths. Yifan dares to ask, “Can we, can we take this elsewhere?”

Junmyeon nods even though he does not trust his legs now. Yifan solves that for him, easily picking him up from the counter. Yifan knows where Junmyeon lives, right by the kitchen in a room that serves as his office and bedroom. Yifan drops Junmyeon on the bed and Junmyeon raises himself on his elbows. Yifan takes a moment to look at him, at the way his shirt slips down one shoulder. They have not turned on any light inside, only the light from the lamp outside illuminates the room. It is dark, hot too. Yifan peels his shirt off and Junmyeon licks his lips. 

Junmyeon falls on his back, biting his lip. Yifan cups Junmyeon’s arousal and Junmyeon moans. Yifan wants to take his trousers off and he does not stop him. When he is bare, only in his briefs, Yifan looks into Junmyeon’s eyes as he runs his hand up Junmyeon’s thigh. The desire is their connection and Yifan feels the small earthquakes erupt under Junmyeon’s flushed skin. Junmyeon sighs and Yifan kisses him again, real slow. Then Yifan kisses him down his chest, his navel till he scrapes his teeth over the band of the briefs Junmyeon wears. To his delight, there are more moles on his chest and the one over the navel gets a darker mark than most.

Yifan leans back and Junmyeon frowns a little, upset at the loss of heat. But Yifan only does so to take off his sweatpants. Junmyeon mouth parts a little when he sees those thick, powerful thighs (the thought of grinding down on them briefly flashes in his mind). And the obvious bulge in his boxers. Junmyeon curls his toes, the anticipation nearly damn choking him. Yifan uses his knees to spread Junmyeon’s legs. He looks intently at Junmyeon and his desire to devour him is clear as day even in the dim lighting. Junmyeon closes his eyes and he feels Yifan brushing his lips against his. Yifan’s tongue finds his and Junmyeon moans.

Junmyeon breaks for air first, gulping in all the air he could. Yifan whispers, “Are you sure?”

Junmyeon brushes the bangs off Yifan’s face and smiles, “Yes.” He turns his head to the side, points at the bedside table, “Last drawer, you’ll find what we need.”

The remaining bits of clothing are removed and Junmyeon spreads is legs and puts a pillow under his back. Soon, Yifan coats his fingers with lubricant and slowly edges inside Junmyeon. Yifan pumps his cock as he opens him and Junmyeon is heaving at the overwhelming simulation. He bunches the sheets under his fist and cries when Yifan brushes against a certain spot and he sees white behind his eyes and his whole body shakes, “Yifan! Right there!”

Then, Yifan rolls down the condom over his cock and Junmyeon watches it with half-lidded eyes. Junmyeon feels his heart throbbing wildly. Yifan is thick and long and again, he anticipates, his body is already so feverishly hot. Yifan slowly eases into Junmyeon, slowly until he is completely buried inside Junmyeon. Yifan stretches Junmyeon to impossible limits, filling him like nothing else before. Junmyeon feels all the air escaping his lungs as his whole body tightens, resisting but Yifan is relentless and he does not move except sinking forward into the tightness, holding back to let Junmyeon get used to the length and girth. Junmyeon gasps, “Oh god, you’re so big…”

Yifan chuckles and his voice sounds strained as he says, “If you don’t—”

Junmyeon admonishes, “Don’t you dare!” Yifan laughs but he listens. His hands cup the sides of Junmyeon’s torso, then his ass before gently stroking his cock. “You can move, please move.”

Junmyeon groans next because Yifan circles his hips deliberately and pulls back, pauses for a moment and then eases his way back in. He repeats this action again and again till it drives Junmyeon quite insane. Yifan’s teasing, the deliberate thrusts and the intermittent sensation of being so incredibly full are driving Junmyeon insane. Junmyeon curls his fingers on Yifan’s shoulders, his blunt nails digging into Yifan’s flesh and he whispers, “Please, please—”

“You need more?” Yifan asks, a salacious grin on his face. Junmyeon decides he quite likes this side of Yifan. But what remains untapped, what is he holding back? Junmyeon nods his head. Yifan runs his hands through Junmyeon’s hair, gripping Junmyeon’s hair firmly at the base of his neck, tilting his chin. They lock their gazes and the heat generated between them is delicious and unbearable. Junmyeon could see the storms form in Yifan’s eyes; the shadow of darkness, the thunderous torrent. Junmyeon feels his own raging fire burning underneath his skin. Like ruined cherries, before they become silken wine, Junmyeon thinks he is quite ready to be ravished to feel the lightheadedness that no wine can bring. Yifan whispers, “Okay.”

And then, Yifan increases his speed, thrusting hard and fast into Junmyeon. Junmyeon’s moans drop loudly and without shame. Yifan is so _impossibly_ deep and hitting him in places Junmyeon did not think possible. He feels Yifan’s hands everywhere and he is so close, so close when Yifan’s hand closes around his cock, yearning for release. 

Yifan cannot quite believe he has this perfect, beautiful man under him, screaming and chanting his name like that. And he feels so, so good. He groans, “Fuck, Junmyeon, you’re driving me crazy.” Junmyeon wheezes a little and Yifan believes it is a laugh, how incredulous it is. Junmyeon is taken by the heat and sex. His skin is flushed the prettiest pink and his chest rises and falls, his eyes shut and his swollen lips parted as drool rolls down his chin. He mutters as he sinks deeper into Junmyeon, grinding down, “You’re so beautiful.”

Junmyeon is close and Yifan knows. He can feel Junmyeon spasming around his cock. Yifan holds Junmyeon close as he falls off the ledge. He comes with a scream and Yifan quickly follows. They are both trembling as they come down from their highs, holding each other close. 

The night is young outside and Yifan pushes himself off Junmyeon and lies down beside him, taking his condom off. They are spent but when Junmyeon turns to look at him with his hooded eyes and languid smile, Yifan feels his heart quicken. Then, Junmyeon inches closer and traces Yifan’s jaw, still smiling. He whispers, “I hope you aren’t done with me.”

Yifan smiles back and he means it when he says, “Don’t even think that I’m done with you yet.”

Perhaps, this time, for the first time, Yifan wants to stay...long enough to taste the cherry wine that awaits for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> fic title taken from the song Cherry by Lana Del Rey


End file.
